


Sweet Child O' Mine

by deadlydecember1214



Series: The Losers Of ‘89 Were Here [16]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, KING Stephen - Works
Genre: Adoption, Baby Fic, Cassidy Tozier (Original Character), M/M, OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlydecember1214/pseuds/deadlydecember1214
Summary: Cassie wakes up in the middle of the night with a mild fever and Richie can’t just leave her alone in her nursery when she isn’t feeling good. (NextGen Baby Losers Fic)





	Sweet Child O' Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of based off a request and kind of an idea I was already planning to do... it’s just been a long time since I’ve done any Baby Loser fics and there’s no reason for it! No more! Lyrics and title come from Guns ‘N’ Roses’ song, Sweet Child O’ Mine.

Crying.

Eddie Kaspbrak woke up to the sound of crying. Groaning, he rolled over into his side and reaching out for the baby monitor on the bedside table. Turning the volume down, he reached over and shoved his boyfriend’s shoulder, barely managing to slur out, “Richie... Get the baby... She’s crying...”

He heard a groan, “Give her a minute...”

They laid together for a moment, listening to their baby daughter continue to cry. Soon, the pitch went even higher and the sound became even more desperate. 

Eddie hit Richie again, “Go get her.”

“Fucking fine,” Richie complained, slipping out of bed.

Eddie rolled over on his stomach, hugging his pillow and muttering, “Don’t swear in front of her,” as he began to drift back off.

Richie rolled his eyes and made his way across the hall, running a hand down his face. His body was still adjusting to parenthood and late night wake up calls. He didn’t understand entirely why waking up two or three times a night was so much harder for his body than pulling an all nighter here and there back in college but fuck was it ever. His limbs felt like they were made of lead and his brain could barely remember how to get his body from his and Eddie’s bedroom to the nursery door.

Opening the door to his daughter’s room, the corners of his mouth twitch upon spotting his little 3-month-old waving her tiny balled fists through the air, blabbering nonsensically between cries. 

Eddie had been the one to pick out everything for Cassidy’s nursery while Richie had been charged with putting it all together. They’d decided on painting the room a soft, baby blue that coincidentally nearly matched the exact shade of Cassie’s eyes. They had prepped the room before receiving the call from the adoption agency so it hadn’t been till a month ago that Eddie had finally gotten Bill over to paint ‘Cassidy’ in swirling gold over her crib. 

Going over to her crib, Richie looked down at her with a mock stern look, “Cassidy Beverly Anne, it is way past your curfew!”

The baby stared up at him, lip wobbling before letting out another mournful squawk, her dark, fine hair sticking up in four different directions. She did not look all that amused.

“Okay, okay, Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Richie plucked her up in one fluid motion, cradling her in his arms as she shoved her fist in her mouth and continued to cry around it, “What’s wrong, huh? You have a nightmare? Papa has those, too.”

Whimpering, she kicked out one of her little legs and kept up her crying, grasping his t-shirt as tightly as she could with the hand not stuck in her mouth. Richie sighed and ran his hand lightly across the top of her head, pausing to rest his palm against her forehead.

“Ah, Cassie, please be messing with me,” Richie groaned and leaned down to brush his lips across her forehead. She was much warmer than usual, which was saying something since the baby was usually a fucking furnace, as was. She was even hotter then she got working herself up into a hysteria. Richie closed his eyes and threw his head back, “Fuuuuudge.”

No swearing. 

It was the rule… Besides, he knew Eddie was probably listening in on the baby monitor.

“Okay, baby girl,” Richie muttered rocking her in his arms, going back toward the door, “Let’s go have Dada take a look at you, huh?”

She continued to fuss as Richie returned to his and Eddie’s bedroom and sat on Eddie’s side of the bed. His boyfriend rolled over and peered up at him, their squirming, crying baby cradled in his arms.

“Richie, you know she can’t sleep in here with us—“ Eddie started, rubbing at his eyes but Richie sighed and spoke over him.

“I think she has a fever,” He said and Eddie fell silent, continuing to peer up at him sleepily for another moment before sitting up in bed as Richie continued, “Can you take her? I’ll get the thermometer.” 

Eddie nodded, reaching out and taking Cassie. The baby cried louder being jostled around but Eddie hushed her softly, bouncing her in his arms as Richie left the room, and managed to somewhat soothe her. He felt himself go into autopilot, his training as a registered pediatric nurse taking over as he reached out and felt his daughter’s forehead, set his hand briefly on her chest to feel her breathing and took her pulse using her little ankle and his wristwatch. 

He had to admit, she _was_ warm. How warm, he couldn’t be sure of yet but at least her pulse was pretty much average for a crying, distressed infant. Without a stethoscope, he couldn’t tell if she was congested though she didn’t feel rattle-y. 

Looking up, he saw Richie coming back in the room with the thermometer the two of them usually used and shook his head.

“Rich, you have to get the one in Cassie’s room. Second drawer in the changing table, it goes in her ear,” Eddie instructed, “And grab my bag for work in the living room, I want to check her respiration.”

Richie gave him a confused look but spun around and did as Eddie had instructed, coming back a minute later with the baby thermometer and Eddie’s stuff. 

Eddie handed Cassie, crying and whining, back to his boyfriend and stood up, going through his bag. He glanced over his shoulder at Richie, who was sitting on the bed again and sighed, using an alcohol wipe to wipe off his stethoscope before putting it over the back of his neck.

“You’re not going to like this,” Eddie warned, turning the thermometer on, “We gotta keep her still and she’s not going to be happy about it.”

Richie looked at the thermometer and then back at Eddie, “It doesn’t hurt, right? Because Cassie’s too tough to get whine-y over a little thing in her ear.”

Eddie gave him a look before rolling his eyes and giving his attention back to their daughter in Richie’s arms. Gently cupping the infant’s head in one hand, Eddie held the thermometer up to her ear. Cassie tried to turn her head away and cried even louder and harder when her Daddy wouldn’t let her. 

Richie grimaced and glanced away, running a finger up and down the soft skin of her arm.

After a second, Eddie took the thermometer back and looked at it with a sigh, “100.1. I mean, it’s low grade.”

“It’s still a fucking fever!” Richie argued as Eddie set the thermometer aside and got his stethoscope.

“Don’t swear,” He gave his boyfriend a look before putting the buds in his ears and gently resting the head of the stethoscope on Cassie’s chest. Listening carefully for a moment, trying to concentrate on the sounds that weren’t her crying, he stood back and shrugged, taking the earbuds out, “She sounds normal.”

“But she has a fever,” Richie argued again and Eddie ran his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, Trashmouth, babies get sick sometimes,” Eddie sighed and pinched his nose, watching Cassie blubber around her slobbery fist. He cocked his head to the side and hummed, “I wonder if she’s teething...”

“What the fu— _fudge_ is teething?” Richie asked, following Eddie’s gaze to their daughter.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “What it sounds like, dummy. When a baby’s teeth start coming in. She’s a little young still but it can happen at three months... I could check her mouth but it’d just make her madder. Let me grab something.”

He left and Richie adjusted Cassie so she was laying with her back against his thighs. He ran his hand over the top of her head again and sighed, “Cassie Anne, can’t you hold off on getting sick for the first time for a few more months? I’m still breaking in this whole dad thing and taking care of a sick baby is out of my wheelhouse, Sweet Child O’ Mine...”

She whined, giving a little cough before starting up again with her crying. Sighing, Richie shook his head and tried to bounce her to soothe her. A beat later, Eddie was back, a wet washcloth in hand.

“I got it right out of the dryer so it’s clean,” He muttered, mostly to himself because Richie didn’t much care, and took Cassie gently from his boyfriend. He offered to cool washcloth to the baby, who squirmed and turned her head away a time or two before clutching it and sticking it in her mouth as well.

In a few seconds, she fell completely quiet for the first time since she’s woken herself up. Eddie sighed and nodded, looking over at his boyfriend, “Teething.”

“Well, cold washrag is a pretty easy fix,” Richie chuckled, watching the two of them.

Eddie shook his head, “It’s also pretty short lived. She’ll start up again when it’s not cold anymore. We need to get her a toy for teething... But you can go put her back down, she might sleep for a bit.”

Richie sighed, peering down at his daughter. She watched him with droopy eyes, looking as if she were on the very edge of sleep but refusing to let herself drop off. She was a stubborn little thing, Richie thought with a twitch of his lips. He blamed Eddie; that fucker was so stubborn it drove him up the damn wall. It made sense, too; Eddie had Cassie more than Richie ever did... it was just the way that their work schedules played out.

Eddie worked from 5 in the morning to 5 in the evening on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday at Derry Home hospital but had the rest of his time to himself, which he usually spent at home with Cassidy. Richie, on the other hand, only really got to see his daughter from the time she woke up in the morning — usually around 9 or 10 — till he dropped her off at daycare to go to work at 2. On a good day he got 5 hours with her and he had weekends but that was it. 

And God dammit, did he miss her when he was away, missed both of them.

Rocking Cassie back and forth, Richie managed to get her to close her eyes once again and sat back against the headboard of the bed. Setting a hand on his daughter’s tummy, Richie felt each breath she took as they evened out and slowed.

“Rich,” 

He lifted his eyes back up to his boyfriend, who was watching him with a tired expression, “Hmm?”

Eddie stepped closer, going to his family and lightly brushing a soft tuft of dark hair from Cassie’s forehead, “Go lay her back down.”

Richie shook his head before looking down at his daughter again, “I don’t wanna. She doesn’t feel good, Eds.”

“She’s teething, Richie.” His boyfriend whispered and rolled his eyes, still playing with their baby girl’s hair, “All babies teeth and they’re always fine.”

Richie sighed, “I don’t want to fucking leave her in there, Eddie. She gets lonely.“

“Don’t swear in front of her,” Eddie reached out and flicked Richie’s ear, “And she does not get lonely, Richie. She’s a baby, she has no object permanence.”

Richie’s eyebrows came together as he looked at the baby, “She’s asleep, Spaghetti Man, ain’t gonna hear me. And what’s that?”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie hissed half heartedly before reaching down and carefully lifting Cassie from Richie’s arms. The baby whimpered once and threw her arm out defiantly before going still again, sighing in her sleep. Eddie rocked her, heading back across the hallway towards her nursery, “Object permanence? Basically, if she can’t see something, she thinks it’s gone forever. She hasn’t learned that most objects around her are permanent, even if they’re not right in front of her.”

Richie jumped up and followed Eddie as he went to Cassie’s crib and lowered the baby down. She kicked out once again as Eddie draped her favorite blankie — one Beverly had stitched for her — over her. Clutching it, she settled back down, blanket in one hand and wash rag in the other. 

“So, when we leave, she thinks we’re fuck — freaking gone forever?” Richie whined, “We can’t leave her in here all alone!”

Eddie sighed, hissing, “What are you going to do, Richie? Sleep in here?”

Richie seemed to be thinking for a moment before marching out of the room. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and went to follow him only to nearly run into his boyfriend, carrying two pillows and a comforter. He sighed, angling his hand at his boyfriend and hissing, “Richard Tozier, what the actual fu—“ He stopped himself, “Fudge are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Eds, my love?” Richie whispered back, laying out the blanket on the floor right beside Cassie’s crib. “I’m having a sleepover with my baby girl. If she wakes up, her papa will be right here.”

Eddie stared for a moment before shaking his head, “Whatever. Be an idiot. Sprain your back. See if I care. Night.”

Turning on his heel, Eddie went back to bed.

Laying on the floor beside Cassie’s, Richie reached up and slipped his hands through the bars of her crib. He found her soft, warm hand and gently ran a single fingertip over her tiny knuckles. 

His baby. His Cassidy Beverly Anne. Cassie. Sweet Child O’ Mine...

_She’s got eyes of the bluest skies_

_As if they thought of rain_

_I’d hate to look into those eyes_

_And see an ounce of pain_

_Her hair reminds me of a warm, safe place_

_Where as a child I’d hide_

_And pray for the thunder_

_And the rain to quietly pass me by..._

Richie was ninety-five percent sure he’d just barely fallen asleep when he felt someone curl up to his side. Peering his eyes open, he smirked, “I thought I was being an idiot.”

Eddie sighed, tucking his head into the crook on Richie’s neck, “You are... but it’s hard to sleep without you. Besides... If Cassie wakes up now we’ll both be here for her.”

“Eds?”

“Hmm?”

“I fucking love you. And I fucking love Cassidy.”

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” A beat of silence and then, “Me too, Idiot, on both counts.”

“You really shouldn’t call me an idiot in front of the baby, Eds.”

Within a few breathes, they were both asleep, their breathing slowing to the pace of their baby daughter beside them.


End file.
